


Ramifications of Casualty

by SilverDragonQueen



Category: Saints Row
Genre: AU, Based on a Tumblr Post, Boss dies and Gat survives SR3, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 14:30:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4838729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverDragonQueen/pseuds/SilverDragonQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saints Row 3 AU in which the boss dies on Loren's plane in the beginning of the game, leaving Johnny alive to seek revenge on the Syndicate.  Loosely based on <a href="http://jonathan-gat.tumblr.com/post/125768310531/what-do-you-think-would-have-happened-if-the-boss/">this</a> ask I saw on my dash and had some pretty strong notions about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ramifications of Casualty

"The fuck is this, we paid up this month!"

"Someone paid more."

The cell door creaked as the officer swung the gate closed, the crash of metal on metal effectively ending the conversation. The Boss scowled at the bars for a long moment, mind already ticking to how they would make their escape. It wouldn't be the first time they had broken out of prison. Honestly, they couldn't even really say it was likely to be the last. Someone paid more...what the fuck was that shit? _Just who the hell did we rob?_ They couldn't help but wonder if Troy knew. They couldn't really imagine him selling out the Saints for money, but stranger things had happened over the last few years.

"What happened?" They heard Johnny ask behind them. They blew out a long sigh and turned from the doorway to face their lieutenants. 

"We got arrested." Shaundi noted bitingly, turning to look at Johnny from her place on the floor.

"No, to us. Birk's right--we traded our dicks in for pussies. Seriously...Movie deals? Commercials? The Saints name use to mean more than body spray and some ass-tasting energy drink." He replied, but he didn't look at her when he spoke. His words were directed at the Boss.

"Our brand's worth a shitload of money..." They countered tiredly. They'd already had this argument. Countless times since the Saints-Ultor Media group had turned the Saints reputation around they'd argued about the direction the Saints were going. It was more than body spray and ass-tasting energy drinks, they were all but icons to the young and restless. Ever since they'd joined the Saints it'd been about wrestling control of Stillwater away from other gangs, and the endless cycle of vengeance that came with it. Well, now they had it. Johnny still wanted to point and shoot but they'd already wiped out every enemy in their path. And they'd lost so many of the friends they'd made along the way. Yes, the Saints were moving a new direction. And they wouldn't argue it wasn't true to how it all began. But they wanted to see how this celebrity angle played out, no matter Johnny's unrest. Sure, because they would be the first to admit they were arrogant pricks and fame was pretty damn comfortable. But there was something else that appealed to the Saint's boss in the newfound chaos their world had been thrown into. Everything had changed, and they were all having to change with it. They couldn't articulate what it was; there was no good way to explain their thoughts on the matter. And so they argued about it instead. It had left it's mark.

Johnny looked away. "Is that what it's all about?" He asked quietly. They wished they had an answer for him, but the cell door reopening saved them from the attempt.

"It is always about the money, Mr. Gat." A woman's voice replied. Svelte and garbed in all black, she stood confidently in the door flocked by men and women on both sides. "Which is precisely why our employer wishes to speak with you."

"If you'll indulge us." A second woman added, the mirror image to the first as she stepped up to stand beside her.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Negotiations, needless to say, had not gone as planned. Nearly forty-thousand feet in the air, and they were dodging bullets in first class. That was probably a first.

"Boss, you gotta bail!" He didn't even have to look to know the knife had met it's mark, sinking perfectly between the eyes of an incoming guard. His attention was more drawn to the boss, who was back on their feet and he could almost see the indignation at the suggestion.

"Not without you." They replied immediately. More Syndicate goons with guns came pouring into the room, a spray of bullets punctuating the statement as they all took cover behind the desk.

"There's like, half a dozen guys? I can take 'em." He mused thoughtfully.

"What about the plane?" Shaundi cut in tersely, leaning past the boss to look at him.

"I'll fly it back to Stillwater." Johnny replied easily, with all the casualness of saying he'd take a drive down to Freckle Bitch's.

"Johnny, you can't even drive stick--how are you going to fly a plane?" Her exasperation was clear, even over the sound of gunfire.

"Details, details--just cover the boss! Go--I got this!"

"Hold up!" The boss argued, putting a restraining hand on his shoulder as he started to rise. "I'll fly the fucking plane to Stillwater. Can't be too different from a helicopter, right? Cover Shaundi, I'll take care of this."

"But-" He was irritated by the suggestion, and it showed in his posture, in his tone, on his face.

"Just go!" They brooked no room for further argument, vaulting right over the table and immediately throwing their weight into the nearest gangster. They went sprawling, the boss rolling to use the man's body as a shield from the rest of the gunfire and throwing punches where it hurt the most. By the time they were back on their feet they were already returning fire. While the attention was on them, Johnny and Shaundi ran out the door, and the boss slammed it soundly behind them.

The second the heavy metal swung into place Johnny had the worst feeling about this. There was a finality to it, a decidedly uncomfortable sensation as the two of them pressed onwards towards the back of the plane. He wasn't use to the one being sent ahead like some barely canonized newbie, he should've been up there in first class watching the boss's back. He could understand their wanting to get Shaundi out of the thick of the fight, but they should've gone with his original plan and escorted her out personally. He could've handled the goons while the boss and Shaundi bailed, then flew the plane to Stilwater and crashed it into the biggest fucking building he could find. Maybe the bank they'd tried to rob. He'd bail before the crash, meet up with the boss, and they could all lay low for a while. Let the tabloids panic while they figured out the next move for the Saints. Try to fix what had broken in their dynamic. The boss was still there but the playa was hiding and though he'd loath to fucking admit it he needed the playa back. They'd never needed therapy or fame or whatever else had gone into their fucking head recently, just a gun in their hands and the magic just happened. _They'll be alright._ He put the thought at the front of his mind, aggressively shutting out the rest. Put a gun in their hands, and the magic just happened. Half a dozen guys was nothing compared to the entire strongholds the boss had walked into alone. Occasionally the intercom crackled to life overhead, and a familiar snark accompanied their passage through the cockpit. The sounds of violence did nothing to put him at ease, no matter the cavalier bravado he had slowly grown use to in the boss.

"This is your new captain speaking. A slight change in flight plan will have us landing back in Stilwater in a matter of hours. Enjoy your flight!" 

A man shouting in French picked up over the speakers before cutting off again.

"This is your dashing captain again reminding all passengers to keep their arms and legs inside the ride at all times." Gunfire rang out over the intercom, followed by a terse "Shit!" and momentary silence. Tentatively the mic turned on again. "I'm gonna guess that monitor wasn't that important anyway."

"Some of our passengers seem like they need to sit the fuck down!" The entire plane shook there. He wondered if it was turbulence or more struggling in the cockpit.

"I've got the cargo doors open for you guys. Grab some chutes and bail, it should be clear!" Perhaps not the wisest announcement, as the unhappy occupants in the cargo bay knew they were coming but it was nothing he and Shaundi couldn't handle.

"Nice try, Frenchy motherfucker!"

"I. Am. Belgian!"

"No one gives a fuck!"

"I am going to cut that disrespectful tongue out of your mouth..."

"Yeah right, and I'm going to--well shit."

That was the last they heard from the boss's end, and then radio silence. They shot their way through the cargo bay of the plane, and as the boss had said, the doors were wide open and waiting. Johnny yanked a parachute off the wall and rammed his arms through the straps, trying and failing to ignore the unease in his gut as Shaundi ran to the intercom. His every instinct was screaming that they should turn back. Something was wrong, he didn't know what but he always followed his instincts and he just knew that he needed to be back there with the boss, right now, plans be damned besides.

"Boss, we're about to jump!" Shaundi shouted over the wind rushing by the open doors.

"Alright, I'll see you in Stil-" Rapid gunfire again, closer than before. It cut off the boss's speech and plunged the bay into eerie silence. It stretched for only a moment but it felt like eternity.

She leaned towards the box, voice soft and unsteady. "Boss...?" A tentative question to which the only reply was the plane's sudden capsizing. Boxes and cars tilted and toppled, the sudden shift in balance throwing both of them in a heedless tumble down the open cargo doors. Johnny seized the ledge, and as Shaundi rolled past him he grabbed her hand and held on tight. They dangled there a moment, suspended and buffeted by harsh wind. He looked up just in time to see the car barreling towards them.

Then they were free falling.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been messing with this idea on and off for a while now, and finished up an introductory chapter for [mangled-aria's](http://mangled-aria.tumblr.com//) birthday. The first bit mostly sticks to canon so things will probably start changing more dramatically in the chapters to come.


End file.
